


Ancient Human Customs

by Joysweeper



Category: Hatoful Kareshi | Hatoful Boyfriend
Genre: F/M, Mutual Masturbation, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 08:01:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joysweeper/pseuds/Joysweeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU off of Shuu's route, where Yuuya became a ghost and was able to partially possess Hiyoko thanks to that Christmas present.</p><p>...I wanted to write pathos and stuff that happened but instead, porn. Maybe I can write other stuff later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ancient Human Customs

The sun has slunk away into the darkness, and they’ve had their by now customary argument about if Hiyoko’s bed of scavenged rags over straw is really comfortable. Yuuya’s used to sleeping crouched and upright, or neatly lying on his chest, as healthy birds prefer; splaying out flat in a heavy human body feels strange, and without feathers the imperfections in any surface are just more obvious. Hiyoko usually spends some time trying to smooth her bed out, despite his protests. She knows how he feels.

But it’s been fluffed and rearranged to as good as she can get it, to the point where he very consciously focuses on not thinking about errant twigs or holes in the rags or the rustling of mice, because she’s starting to get impatient and he can’t blame her. How much easier things would be if he could lie to her when they’re like this, or if she didn’t feel so very indebted.

Instead of sleeping, though, she fidgets and changes position for some time. She keeps her eyes closed most of the time, except to stare dully at the smoke-streaked ceiling of her cave. They said goodnight some time ago, and he tries to be quiet after that point… still.

He can’t speak through her mouth yet. Humans don’t talk the way birds do, their voices come from their throats, not deep in their chests. It feels entirely different.

Still, she can hear him just fine. ‘Mon amie? Something the matter?’

Hiyoko screws up her flexible face in a grimace.”Yuuya, can you look away for a minute?”

It’s the kind of phrasing she uses when she has to eliminate wastes. He’s too much a gentleman to want to be with any lady _all_ the time, even if tuning out his sense of her body is offputting, and the alternative, being sent unceremoniously back to the confines of the infirmary is maddening. Yuuya doesn’t feel the same kind of abdominal pressure that normally heralds moments like that - an urgency, yes, but a different one. Though not unfamiliar. He's felt it before in her, just never so strong.

Still, he’s a gentleman dove. ‘Of course. Can’t refuse a lady’s request, can I?’

“-wait, Yuuya.”

…of course, she can hear that he’s puzzled. They’re very close, like this. Since she asked, he stays present and waits as she holds her lower lip between her teeth and heaves herself over to lie on her broad back, and waits as she smooths her frayed nightgown over her hips with her hands.

He loves her hands. Footlike structures that they are, they can’t match the sheer delicate precision of a prehensile wingtip, no. Instead they trade that deftness for a power and sensitivity that feels amazing.

“The warrior-queens among my ancestors,” she starts, her tone unusually contemplative. “Boudicca, Ching Shih, Hilary Clinton, mighty Xena… in times when there was no battle, they still sometimes felt the call of their blood. When they fought besides husbands or axe-friends they could call on them to sate their savagery in companionship, but the tales say there were nights in which they were apart, and had to wrestle their natures alone.”

Call of their blood… She sounded like a certain bleeding-heart. Still, he puzzles out one possibility. ‘Ah, Hiyoko, do you mean the art of lovemaking?’

“Y-yes, I guess so, but I don’t like to put it like that! It sounds so - so soft and flashy, Yuuya!” He feels her blush, her skin tingling pleasantly hot. “It’s a grand tradition of hunter-gatherer women, stretching back to when we came down from the trees! And to honor them, I carry this tradition to today.”

Well. _Well._ Yuuya knows he really should be more discreet, but that tingling of blood hasn’t died back, and he can feel her hands on her hips, so close to the mounting urgency like an itch… ‘You know, you don’t actually have to fight a battle like that alone, mon amie. I’m here, after all, and I wouldn’t mind, haha, supporting ancient human customs.’

“Y-y-Yuuuya!”

‘Am I lying? I can look away. Or banish me and I’ll depart, but you should know it’s an option, and one I wouldn’t mind taking for you.’ He’s not really fine with being dead, or with her unwitting role in causing that. She knows that. While Yuuya can’t remember his death or the exact circumstances leading up to it, he knows he was careless, and that it was Shuu who had done whatever he’d done, and he doesn’t hate Hiyoko. She knows _that_ , too.

There is a long hesitation. When they’re like this, he can’t read her like she can read him, and so when she says, “Okay. We’ll slake my blood together, tonight” he can’t tell if it’s out of genuine interest or because she feels bad for him. At the moment, he doesn’t really care, because she hikes up her nightgown’s skirt and plunges her hand into the brambly depths before letting him control it.

With her other hand she pulls the neck of her nightgown down and palpates her breasts with the ease of long practice, pulling one up and crimping her short human neck so that she can lick and lightly touch her teeth to its sensitive central peak. Which is very distracting! Still, having been given permission Yuuya knows he really should explore this southern territory. And so he does, careful with the flat scales that Hiyoko has instead of claws.

She has an opening, yes, like anybirdie’s cloaca, but shaped elaborately and convoluted and framed with heavy vertical lips, and damper than a healthy cloaca usually gets. In the folds right at the upper front there is a kind of nib. When he presses lightly against it it presses back, and as one Hiyoko and Yuuya inhale sharply as a kind of lightning shoots up along her spine.

Had he known about this before? He thinks… he might have known something. After all he found it so quickly and wasn’t surprised. There’s so much he’s forgotten… but, this isn’t about his life. This is about right _now_ , and the realization that Hiyoko hadn’t been entirely exaggerating when she spoke of human lust being savage. Her skin prickles and contracts into bumps, she feels most pleasantly ablaze, and it would be churlish to stop now.

The nib throbs between two fingers as Yuuya strokes and coddles it with Hiyoko’s thumb. She tries to take her hand back for a moment, and for the first time since he broke through her paralysis in the infirmary he fights her control. She takes her other hand from her breast and brings it to join the first one, but going lower, pulling up wetness to smear around where he’s working her fingers, then dipping back to that mysterious concealed point. He understands.

Her inner surfaces are complex, here smooth, here sort of nubbly, and there are all kinds of things they can both do to make them shudder and gasp. This is entirely unfamiliar, but Hiyoko knows herself well, and Yuuya is a quick study.

She doesn’t orgasm the way he does… he doesn’t know if it’s a human thing, or because she’s female, if he ever knew he’s forgotten. Instead of one great rush it’s a series of rippling lightning bolts, curling her toes, making her body arch, coaxing a groan from her throat. Yuuya has the sudden half-alarming thought that that she could go on like this forever, and he wouldn’t entirely be opposed to that.

But all things end, even Hiyoko’s stamina. Eventually she lies back, panting, quietly glowing with contentment. Yuuya lies back within her, not even minding the rough mattress or her skin sheened with sweat now.

‘Well,’ he says eventually. ‘A great battle, indeed. Haha, I never knew. How… often do you ‘fight’ such?’

He feels her smile. “Gee, Yuuya, you might have to find out.”


End file.
